An Impulsive Whim
by loveretriever
Summary: Written for griffinesque for the August One-Shot Exchange. Luna/Draco - takes place in Draco's 5th year/Luna's 4th year. Warning: Rated T for mentions of abuse. Otherwise, fluffy angst


Written for griffinesque as part of SiriusMarauderFan's August Monthly One-Shot Exchange

Prompts used: Luna/Draco; (genre) angst, fluff; chocolate kisses, snuffles; "Are you crazy? If people were meant to fly, we would be born with wings." "They don't appreciate me. I am like some sort of clothing accessory; get your know-it-all for half off." "I am scared. You keep putting me in between a cliff and a hard place...Almost as if you keep expecting me to choose you. Almost as if you think that I agree with all that you have done. They are children. Little ones who know no better."

Word count: 2734

* * *

Draco is nervous. It's the end of summer, which means another school term is coming up. His parents have not been pleased with his performance thus far. He has passed all of his classes, of course - he's no fool. But no matter how much intelligence and cunning he shows, no matter how much praise his professors give, Lucius Malfoy is always displeased the first week of June when he hears the mudblood girl receives the top marks in everything except Divination. (But, Lucius scowls and points out, she doesn't even take Divination, and neither should Draco!)

He winces at the memory. His nerves still twitch in pain, although his scar from that beating has healed. It's been two years, though in the intervening years he has received more beatings for other things. Of course, everything seems trivial to Draco except the Dark Mark. That is his end goal. His new life, his new chance to prove himself worthy of his father. His father, who has put him down, year after year, telling him he's not strong enough. Telling him he's too weak, a coward.

Draco is looking forward to this year. It's his O.W.L.s year and he hopes that, if he does well, his Aunt Bellatrix will teach him some curses come Christmas. (He has been told about the planned Azkaban break-out, although his mother tells him to keep it hush-hush in case Bellatrix doesn't make it.) Draco respects his mother and his aunt, although he sometimes cannot understand how they're related.

"Draco?" his mother calls, entering the house.

"Yes, Mother," Draco replies formally, standing up and adjusting his robes.

Narcissa enters and admires her son. She loves her family and doesn't understand why her precious son has to take the Mark when countless others have not done so. But no matter, that is something Draco does not have to hear, she tells herself.

"Are you ready?" she asks, staring into his eyes. The clear reflection of grey skies stares back, unnerving her.

"Yes, Mother, of course." Draco is all packed and ready to go back to school, if only to prove he's worth something.

"Darling," Narcissa smiles at him and Draco's heart is warmed. He knows that his mother will always love him, but he's never had to please his mother. His father is the difficult one.

Narcissa understands her son's fears. "Don't worry, Draco, my love. Everything will work out."

"Yes, Mother." Draco gives her a smile and Narcissa is happy. This is the last time she'll see him this year.

Narcissa and Lucius accompany Draco to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Lucius makes friendly talk with the other Slytherin parents. Narcissa says goodbye once more to her boy.

"For good luck," she whispers, kissing his cheek. "Now get on the train!"

Standing up, Narcissa rejoins Lucius and the two Apparate home.

"Narcissa," Lucius calls once they are alone.

"Yes, Lucius," she dutifully responds.

"What are you telling Draco?" He eyes her suspiciously, as though jealous of her bond with their son.

"Nothing, dear. Just the usual: do well in school, make us proud, look forward to the winter break. He may get lucky this Christmas." Narcissa looks at herself in the mirror and touches up her makeup.

"Nothing that would be unduly said, Lucius, dear." Narcissa throws him a sidelong look before reaching for a comb. Lucius walks over and picks up the comb first.

"Here, allow me," he says gallantly, brushing her hair.

Narcissa lets him pamper her. Combing her hair is a task he has always loved to do, although Narcissa can't understand why.

"Cissy," Lucius starts, and sighs. "I hope you understand how important this year is going to be. If Bellatrix and the others escape..." he sighs and drops the comb, using his fingers instead to untangle Narcissa's long blonde hair.

"Lucius, I know," she says softly, grabbing his hand for support and comfort. "I know, dear, this could be the most important year." She kisses his hand, but he backs away as if burned.

"No, Cissy, you don't understand. How could you ever understand?" He is furious and she doesn't know what to do. She is also backed into a metaphorical corner.

"But I do understand, Lucius! You keep telling me about Draco and the Dark Lord as if there is only one future. I am scared. You keep putting me in between a cliff and a hard place," she yells. She stops, breathing raggedly. She is shocked to find tears slipping down her face.

Lucius is worried. He has never imagined his wife to have feelings. She's always been a cold, calculating, devoted yet subservient woman. Willing to give up everything for a comfortable life. Not a woman invested with emotions and liable to cry at any given moment. Astonished, Lucius sits down, not knowing if he should try to comfort her or if this is something that will just go away, like all of their other problems.

Shaking, Narcissa continues in a low voice, "It's...Almost as if you keep expecting me to choose you. Almost as if you think that I agree with all that you have done. They are children. Little ones who know no better." Her voice breaks into an uncontrollable sob.

Lucius automatically stands and walks towards her, but she waves him away.

"Draco is just a boy. A child who knows nothing. Why him? He's so innocent and beautiful. Pure," she sniffles and finally allows Lucius to wrap his arms around her.

"Draco is a Malfoy," Lucius whispers, "but I hate this just as much as you. He is our son, and as a Malfoy, family is most important." Lucius kisses his wife.

* * *

On the train, Draco is bored. He sits with his friends, but all they talk about is Hogwarts, classes, who the new Defense teacher is, and other inane subjects. Pansy Parkinson is annoying as usual. Believing herself to be pretty, she hangs with Draco and his cronies. Draco is often teased that ugly Pansy is trying to become the new Mrs. Malfoy. Not that it bothers him, although he'd never consider marrying such an ugly girl.

Draco shakes off his friends and gets up with the excuse of buying something off the trolley. Hurriedly, he exits the compartment before anyone can follow. Once outside, he breathes in fresh air and is able to relax. He walks along the train, looking for the trolley witch to supply his alibi.

He is just about to cross into the next train car when, abruptly, he sneezes, violently rocking his body against the wall.

"Snuffles," a light voice says near him. A handkerchief is passed into his hand as he sneezes again.

"What did you say?" he asks, putting on a sneer when he recognizes the girl.

"Snuffles," the girl repeats, big grey eyes looking at him seriously.

"Excuse you," Draco snarls, unsure of what to do with this girl.

"No, excuse you," she smiles. "You can keep the kerchief, I don't need it. I've got plenty." She holds up a length of cloth with one square neatly cut out of it.

"You're crazy," Draco tries to not smile back. But damn, her smile is infectious.

"I guess so, to be talking to a Malfoy. They say a Malfoy's tongue can cut you up and spit you back out whole. I don't know, but that sounds rather imaginative, don't you think?" She isn't gazing at him. Instead, her eyes are staring out the train window.

Draco has no idea what to say, having never heard that before. So he stares levelly at her, waiting for her to move or say something else. He isn't used to being ignored and doesn't take to it well.

"Oh, these hills are delightful!" Luna talks animatedly. "Wouldn't it be just amazing if we could fly along here?"

Draco snorts. "Are you crazy? If people were meant to fly, we would be born with wings."

"The bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, according to the laws of aerodynamics. But the bumblebee doesn't know it, so he flies anyway," Luna says, half-quoting a famous line.

"Hogwash," Draco says, refusing to understand Luna's point.

"Well, what were you doing out here, anyway? Aren't the rest of you Slytherins up there?" She indicates a hand in the direction of the compartment he came from.

"No!" he says immediately. "Well, yes, but - ARGH! You are an infuriating woman!" He rubs his head, mussing his hair. "I was going to find the trolley witch, but yes the rest of the Slytherins are sitting in that general direction."

"Oh, I see. If you wanted to know, the trolley witch has gone two train cars down," Luna says in her strange attempt to be helpful.

"Yeah, well, thanks." Draco realizes what he's said and scowls. "Good thing you're a girl. It's not good manners to hex girls."

Luna giggles and stares back at him, giving him the first look he's received that isn't mixed with concern.

He tries not to, but he can't help staring back. He ends up falling into her eyes, which are as grey as his own. Blinking, he comes to his senses.

"Right, the trolley witch. This never happened," he warns her, standing up and using the handkerchief one last time. Pocketing the cloth, he tosses her one last backwards glance before walking away.

Somehow, she is still there, trailing somewhere behind him, babbling strange words he can't follow.

"Do you believe in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks? What is your take on Blibbering Humdingers? Do you think someone will ever find a cure for wrackspurts? Have you ever had an infestation of nargles? What would you get if you mixed a unicorn and a thestral? I think it can't be done, but then again, there aren't many people who can see thestrals. They're really very beautiful, once you get to know them."

Scowling, Draco doesn't even realize when he reaches the trolley witch until he hears her voice.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" the woman asks, smiling gently at the two blondes.

Draco tries hard not to smirk as he requests handfuls of chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, (for Pansy, he says unnecessarily), and all the pumpkin pasties the witch can give him. The trolley witch empties her cart happily, takes his money and waddles down the corridor with the full intent of refilling her stock.

Without asking, Luna takes a heaping pile of sweets and looks up at him like an over-eager puppy, ready to please. Draco catches himself smiling. He can't help but find her actions sweet and endearing, although her speech is confusing.

Slowly retracing his steps, Draco is surprised to find he enjoys hearing Luna's voice. Stopping in an empty compartment for a moment, Draco motions for Luna to drop the sweets on the bench seats. He then magics the candies into a smaller version that fits in one of his pockets.

"Neat," Luna remarks, intrigued. "Wish I could do that."

"It's simple. The spell is Reducio," Draco explains. "Engorgio. Reducio. See?"

Luna tries the spells and they work, to her surprise. Draco finds an odd warmth spreading out from his heart. Teaching Luna is almost enjoyable. Almost, he mentally admits, knowing he's a liar.

"'Course they work," Draco says to fill the uncomfortable silence. "They're spells. Do the same thing every time."

"Oh, but it might have gone wrong. You never know," Luna says, making Draco even more uncomfortable.

"Would you like a chocolate frog?" Draco asks, trying to make the situation less awkward. Of course, whenever someone does that, the situation tends to escalate.

"Would you mind terribly if I said yes? It's been ages since I ate."

"Why else would I offer?" Draco passes Luna an un-spelled chocolate frog and, on second thought, takes one himself.

"Ooh! It really hops!" Luna observes, trying, and failing, to catch the energetic frog.

"It only has one good leap in it," Draco explains, as the frog flies out the window. "Too bad. You want half of mine?"

Luna accepts because, contrary to popular belief, she does have manners. From what her father has told her of old Pureblood customs, she recognizes Draco's mannerisms. They remind her of thestrals. Everyone takes time to get used to you, she thinks, humming softly.

"You've got some chocolate on your mouth," Draco points out, handing her the cloth from earlier. "Here."

"Thanks," Luna replies, licking her mouth clean. "All good?" Draco laughs, a pleasant deep sound.

"Yes, all good. What about me?"

Luna looks at him teasingly. "You've got something right -" she leans in and brushes her lips against his. "There. I think I got it."

Draco is shocked and looks at her as if he's been electrocuted.

"Oh, no, it's still there," Luna muses, using the cloth to properly wipe his mouth. "There, now it's all gone." She beams up at him happily and waits for him to speak.

"I-I- Why did you do that?" he sputters, unable to control the thoughts in his head. He is happy that she likes him, and sad because she moved away, but happy because she cares, but upset because his father wants him to get close to the Parkinsons - he needs some air. Time. Breathe, right Draco, breathe in, breathe out. His mind goes blank as opposing thoughts flood his brain.

Luna guides Draco to the bench seats, afraid he might pass out.

"I've never had a chocolate kiss before," Luna admits, quietly talking to restore normality. "It's just like a regular kiss. But with chocolate."

Finally, Draco slowly smiles and wraps an arm around Luna.

"You know what, Luna? You're not half-bad, and that's saying something. You're different from my family. They don't appreciate me." He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "To them, I'm like some sort of clothing accessory; get your know-it-all for half off." He laughs, a hollow mocking sound. His self-deprecating humour confuses Luna, who continues to stare at him like he's an Exploding Snap card ready to go off.

"You see, it's like this. Granger's in my year - you know her, Hermione Granger? The mud- Muggle?" He changes his word mid-way, but Luna understands. She lightly frowns at him, but nods her head, encouraging him to continue.

"Yeah, sorry, well, she always gets the top marks. To my parents, it's embarrassing. She's not a pureblood and she's Gryffindor." He makes a face. "To them, I'm worthless."

"I'm sure your parents just don't see everything you can do. Sometimes, you know, I feel like I don't have a friend in the world. Then I remember what my father once told me. He said, if you believe, anything is possible. Open your mind and the world is yours." She smiled thinking of her father. "You know, he's a really brilliant man, even if no one likes to acknowledge it. They get carried away by the way he dresses and the things he believes in. But if you strip it all away, he's quite wise and intelligent."

Draco smiles and assures Luna she is right.

"Yes, he sounds really charming." For once in his life, Draco seriously thinks about the words Luna has spoken. Upon further reflection, they are very wise. The wisdom of Ravenclaw, he thinks.

"I don't suppose you want to return to the Slytherins?" Luna asks slyly.

"That fat lot? Nah, they'll be fine if I get back later. It's not like there's any hurry." Draco smirks at her, letting her know he's making fun of everything because he's uncomfortable.

"Oh good. Because I'm sitting on your robes. It would be an awful shame if you tried to get up and ripped them because of me."

Draco had an impulsive whim to lean in and kiss her. And he did just that.


End file.
